senseless and… well, whatever Ragnor did to him. What do you expect?”
“He still has his mind, Rowan. He is still essentially himself. If he were an obnoxious brat, like you, we would see it.”
“Hah. Thanks.”
“Stop being such an idiot, Rowan. You must learn to get along with him sometime, and this is such an excellent opportunity to create a bond with him.”
“I don’t want a bond with him.”
“Now you really do sound like a petulant child.” Melissa rose. “I have duties to attend to. Stay with him until he wakes, then take him back to his room. Ragnor wishes him to rest before his treatments tonight, so you do not have to spend time with him this evening. Once he is safely asleep in his room, you are free until tomorrow at ten.”
“Oh, thank you so much.”
“Behave, Rowan. This attitude is beneath you.”
“So I’ve been told.”
Melissa smiled and swept from the room, leaving Rowan alone with Astrin. For a while he stood at the side of the bed, looking down at the sleeping prince. Astrin had turned on his side and was curled up with one hand under his cheek. Could he have chosen a cuter pose? Was he doing it on purpose? Rowan crouched down and peered closely into his face for a while before deciding he was definitely asleep and therefore unlikely to be posing for effect.
Rowan was angry. Everyone seemed to think Astrin was so bloody special. His uncle, Ragnor, and now even Melissa. He wasn’t that special. He was… he was…. Okay, Rowan couldn’t quite clarify exactly what was wrong with him, but there was something—there had to be—otherwise he wouldn’t hate him so much.
Rowan found his treacherous mind thinking back to the time they’d spent together in Astrin’s room, when Astrin had made him smile, and had, for a moment, thawed that angry ice from around his heart. He found himself smiling again, but that only made him angrier. Everyone was telling him he should make his peace with Astrin, get to know him, get to like him, but he was damned if he was going to do that. He was never going to like the spoiled, soft little prince who was tucked into bed each night by the mother he, Rowan, had been deprived of.
Furious, he paced the room, whipping himself into a greater and greater fury. How dare Astrin be here—here in his own house, in his own sister’s bed? How dare he charm her? How dare he sleep so peacefully when because of him—his family, his House—Rowan’s dreams had so often been bad ones?
C HAPTER F IVE
T HE D REAM
F INALLY , R OWAN felt that if he didn’t do something he would burst. What was the point of letting Astrin sleep, after all? He was going to sleep again as soon as Rowan got him back to his room.
Gritting his teeth to stop himself from shouting, he roughly shook Astrin awake. Astrin stretched and yawned, smiling at Rowan, who scowled in return.
“I think perhaps it was you who needed a nap. You look tired, Rowan.” Astrin peered at him. “You look very tired, in fact. Have you not been sleeping well?”
“What has that got to do with you? Mind your own business and get in the chair.”
Astrin looked taken aback, but not fearful and cowed as he had before. Tilting his head to one side, he regarded Rowan thoughtfully. “Your sister said that I haven’t done anything wrong. Did you lie to me? Or did she lie to me? Or did you both tell the truth?”
Rowan was alarmed. Astrin’s eyes were clear and bright, staring into his with far too much comprehension. Where had the confusion gone? Where was the drugged stupor? Astrin was shaking it and the conditioning too.
“Stop thinking so much, or you’ll give yourself a headache. Get in the chair.”
“Perhaps I don’t want to. Perhaps I would prefer to walk in the garden again or wait here for your sister. I like her more than I like you.”
“And maybe I’ll slap you silly and carry you back to your room. Get in the gods-damned chair.”
Astrin continued to look at him calmly,
“He still has his mind, Rowan. He is still essentially himself. If he were an obnoxious brat, like you, we would see it.”
“Hah. Thanks.”
“Stop being such an idiot, Rowan. You must learn to get along with him sometime, and this is such an excellent opportunity to create a bond with him.”
“I don’t want a bond with him.”
“Now you really do sound like a petulant child.” Melissa rose. “I have duties to attend to. Stay with him until he wakes, then take him back to his room. Ragnor wishes him to rest before his treatments tonight, so you do not have to spend time with him this evening. Once he is safely asleep in his room, you are free until tomorrow at ten.”
“Oh, thank you so much.”
“Behave, Rowan. This attitude is beneath you.”
“So I’ve been told.”
Melissa smiled and swept from the room, leaving Rowan alone with Astrin. For a while he stood at the side of the bed, looking down at the sleeping prince. Astrin had turned on his side and was curled up with one hand under his cheek. Could he have chosen a cuter pose? Was he doing it on purpose? Rowan crouched down and peered closely into his face for a while before deciding he was definitely asleep and therefore unlikely to be posing for effect.
Rowan was angry. Everyone seemed to think Astrin was so bloody special. His uncle, Ragnor, and now even Melissa. He wasn’t that special. He was… he was…. Okay, Rowan couldn’t quite clarify exactly what was wrong with him, but there was something—there had to be—otherwise he wouldn’t hate him so much.
Rowan found his treacherous mind thinking back to the time they’d spent together in Astrin’s room, when Astrin had made him smile, and had, for a moment, thawed that angry ice from around his heart. He found himself smiling again, but that only made him angrier. Everyone was telling him he should make his peace with Astrin, get to know him, get to like him, but he was damned if he was going to do that. He was never going to like the spoiled, soft little prince who was tucked into bed each night by the mother he, Rowan, had been deprived of.
Furious, he paced the room, whipping himself into a greater and greater fury. How dare Astrin be here—here in his own house, in his own sister’s bed? How dare he charm her? How dare he sleep so peacefully when because of him—his family, his House—Rowan’s dreams had so often been bad ones?
C HAPTER F IVE
T HE D REAM
F INALLY , R OWAN felt that if he didn’t do something he would burst. What was the point of letting Astrin sleep, after all? He was going to sleep again as soon as Rowan got him back to his room.
Gritting his teeth to stop himself from shouting, he roughly shook Astrin awake. Astrin stretched and yawned, smiling at Rowan, who scowled in return.
“I think perhaps it was you who needed a nap. You look tired, Rowan.” Astrin peered at him. “You look very tired, in fact. Have you not been sleeping well?”
“What has that got to do with you? Mind your own business and get in the chair.”
Astrin looked taken aback, but not fearful and cowed as he had before. Tilting his head to one side, he regarded Rowan thoughtfully. “Your sister said that I haven’t done anything wrong. Did you lie to me? Or did she lie to me? Or did you both tell the truth?”
Rowan was alarmed. Astrin’s eyes were clear and bright, staring into his with far too much comprehension. Where had the confusion gone? Where was the drugged stupor? Astrin was shaking it and the conditioning too.
“Stop thinking so much, or you’ll give yourself a headache. Get in the chair.”
“Perhaps I don’t want to. Perhaps I would prefer to walk in the garden again or wait here for your sister. I like her more than I like you.”
“And maybe I’ll slap you silly and carry you back to your room. Get in the gods-damned chair.”
Astrin continued to look at him calmly,
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